


Verdant Wind - Chapter 23: Reunion

by sunflowersandsunshining



Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst, Battlefield love, F/M, Fluff, Proposals, SPOILERS FOR S SUPPORT CLAUDE, Spoilers in general, right after the game ends
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 02:22:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,311
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20268442
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunflowersandsunshining/pseuds/sunflowersandsunshining
Summary: (Spoilers for S Support Claude!)The war's ended, but something still isn't right between Byleth and her lover.





	Verdant Wind - Chapter 23: Reunion

Being a mercenary-turned-professor-turned-war-general-turned-queen hadn’t made life easy for Byleth. 

But him leaving was perhaps the hardest thing she had ever endured.

He proposed the day after the war ended. Emerald green eyes offered a vow, enshrined in a ring, promising a life where they’d be together in the peaceful world they had built. Forever. 

For the second time in her life, she cried.

“Yes,” her voice was shot, chest heaving as the words spilled out. “Oh, Claude, of course!”

“I was hoping you’d say that.” He laughed, a shining, golden laugh that made her head go light. 

For the first time in the almost six years they had known each other, he embraced her. And he was warm. Warmer than her skin had ever been. 

It was like coming home. She hadn’t yet experienced that feeling in her life, but somehow, she knew it to be true.

Her head fell on his chest, her arms tightening around his torso. Their breaths became one, together, as they finally felt what it was like to be at peace. 

“What’s that noise?” Byleth whispered eventually.

“What noise?” Claude chuckled softly as he tightened his grip around her. “You don’t mean my…”

“Your heart,” she said slowly. “It’s beating.”

“Oh, babe,” he whispered softly. “Don’t worry. I’ll make it beat enough for the two of us.”

Was that what happiness felt like?

Who knows?

But within minutes, that bastard had ruined it all. 

“--that’s why I have to leave,” his words rang hollow in her head. His tongue played a clever game, words picked and chosen to keep the venom sweet and non-threatening. “We’ll only be apart for a short while." What a lie that was. She felt like a fool, playing it in her head, over and over again. 

Why did she trust him? The man played everyone for his own schemes, just to throw them away when they were no longer of use to him. The only way she had been any different was that she had been particularly useful to him - but even she had outlived her purpose.

She played right into his hands, and he, her merciless captor. 

“Lady Byleth,” a voice snapped behind her, breaking her out of her thoughts. “Word has come from Derdriu. An army is approaching, and fast.” 

It was Ingrid. She had an annoying knack for finding her, even in her best guarded hiding spots around the monastery. Perhaps that’s why she’s her adviser, Byleth thought. 

“Under what banner?” The queen’s voice was shaky and fast, knocked off balance by her partner's uncertainty. 

“None. They're having a meeting about it right now, your Highness.” 

Byleth shook her head, her hands creeping along the hem of her dress nervously. “We’ll deploy forces immediately.”

“Understood, your Highness--” 

“And,” she cut in abruptly. “I… I will be leading them.” Despite her nerves, she was suddenly dead set on leading an army once more - and if she died, well, it wouldn’t be the worst thing that had ever happened to her.

“Your Highness, please, reconsider,” Ingrid said calmly, following straight behind as Byleth made her way to the Cardinal's room. “You’re too important to the Alliance. If Claude comes home to an empt-”

“Stop talking.” Byleth replied bitterly. 

The war room was already full by the time the pair arrived. A round table with dozens of seats, almost completely full of stuffy nobles and military advisers and other folk whose names she didn’t remember. Only a few of her old allies remained, battle-torn and weary, and not a single one looked excited to be there.

“Your Highness,” a noble man stood up. “We need your orders. If we don’t act soon, there may be bloodshed, and-”

“We cannot send more people to their deaths!” A fiery redhead spat, her words dripping with anger. Leonie. She’s never been one for niceties.

“We must crush this rebellion before it grows into a full-scale war.” Byleth replied decisively. “We march tomorrow.” 

And with that, she returned to her quarters.

She had no time for games, nor formalities. The crown of Fódlan had been forced upon her head, anyways - what would they do? Take it away? Good riddance.

Her chamber door made a resounding click as she locked it behind her. In a single stride, Byleth found herself in front of her mirror, clothes coming undone in long pieces as she prepared for the night ahead.

Scars lined her body, skin rough with damage and wear, her naked figure resembling more that of a dying soldier than a ruling queen. A pained laugh escaped from her chest. He’s never seen this. 

The night passed, repressed emotions bubbling over into dreams that haunted her into her waking hours.

And then he’s right in front of her, smiling. He pushes his hair back, winks, and takes her hand gently. He plucks a ring from his pocket, slips it onto her finger. A perfect fit.

“I love you,” he whispers. “With all that I am.” 

“I love you too,” she hears herself say. “With everything that I can.” 

He laughs. Goddess, how sweet the sound. 

“We’ll only be apart for a short while,” his voice repeated in her dreams. The sun turns dark, the world loses its light, and he disappears - a memory long forgotten, going, going, gone --

Every night, it was the same goddamn story. She felt foolish for expecting anything different. 

Sleep did not return that night. Instead, thoughts swirled and stirred inside her head, sharp like knives and primed to kill. He’s never seen this. And if he ever came back to her, would he even want to?

Would he?

She eventually pried herself away from her thoughts and pulled her focus onto the task at hand - to defend the empire, and keep the unity for--

For herself, she thought bitterly. 

In the darkness of dawn, she sleepily made her way to the stables and in one fluid, thoughtless motion, she saddled her old steed and guided him towards the sun. There was no time to wait, no time to prepare an army - and what kind of a Queen couldn’t crush a measly rebellion by herself? 

The monastery faded behind her, until it was nothing more than a blurry line on the horizon. The stars slept above her, their radiance eventually washed away by the light of dawn. The journey was dull enough to kill. It gave her too much space - too much time to think, to ponder, to consider all the what ifs and could have beens that she’d shut out in the flurry of being a ruler. It was torture.

She could have chosen someone else. Felix, Sylvain, Mercedes, Ashe, Dorothea… hell, even Seteth would have stayed with her. They would have been there for her.

She could have. But she didn’t. 

Quietly, her gaze traveled up from her hands and fell upon the city of Derdriu, shining and golden as the seat of the Alliance, the ocean holding her buildings upon its pale blue back. The sun bathed her in light, a delicate dance between the earth and the heavens.

And then she saw the fire.

Blazing, molten fire eating away at everything. It swallowed buildings whole, its fiery teeth tearing at the flesh of the villagers, incinerating any shred of evidence that they had ever existed. She could feel the heat on her skin, nipping and biting at her skin, tauntingly. 

Scaling the walls of a city wasn’t hard when they were half destroyed. Her eyes scanned the streets below, eyes flickering from corpse to corpse, searching, eventually landing on a soldier clad in midnight black armor - it bore no flag, nor banner, only hatred in its eyes and a lance in its hands. Bingo. 

The sound of hoof on stone deafened Byleth as she charged into the thicket of inky plated soldiers, sword drawn, ready to fight - no, to kill, for-- for--

For her home. 

But in less than a minute, her body, rusted by months of disuse, was knocked from her horse by a swarm of jet dark lances. She hit the ground with a resounding thud, limp and cold against the blood-soaked soil. The sky loomed above her, sunset oranges and pinks and purples swirling among the clouds, half-blocked by the swarm of soldiers gathering above her. 

“The queen!” a voice hissed.

“She’s on the ground! Now’s your chance!” another howled, lifeless.

“No, no!” Byleth yelled, attempting to stand. “This is--”

“Your _end!_”

His voice was coated in gold in the evening sunlight, sparkling, real, physical, given form, and as her glazed-over eyes lifted themselves to the sky, she saw him.

He came back.

Oh, Goddess, did he come back.

On the back of his wyvern, wings white like a rose, he readied his bow, and his eyes told her that he was the thorns - soon, one by one, they fell.

Arrows rained from above, merciless and cold, tipped with yellow. Despite her position, they completely missed her - while they scattered across the battlefield, they never grazed her skin, nor came close to her, not even once. Not even once. 

“Hey, Teach!” his voice called from above, sunshine parting the clouds of dusk. “You didn’t think I’d leave you forever, did you?” 

Before she could even open her mouth to respond, she felt his arms grab hold of her, scooping her up and onto the back of his steed. The wind ran its fingers through their hair as he took them to the skies, one hand on the reigns and the other wound tightly around her.

“Don’t worry about ol’ Dorte, Teach.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “My friends will take care of her.”

“Friends…?” Byleth stammered, muffled by the satin of his clothes. 

“I didn’t go to Almyra just to return empty-handed. They’ll take care of this little… party, too.” he laughed. “But forget that. Are you alright?”

“You _bastard!_” She huffed, joy quickly overtaking the anger in her tone. “I-- you-- I thought you weren’t going to come back!” 

“And leave the love of my life alone?” his voice was gentle, sweet, laced only lightly with humor; one of the voices he reserved for her and her only. 

“You’re--” 

“I know, I know.” Claude chuckled slightly. “You have every right to be angry. But for now,” his grip on her tightened. “I need to get you to safety, your _Highness._”

The last word dripped with his special brand of sarcasm, the kind that made her heart flutter even though she knew he was joking. 

Her arms curled around the back of his neck, their chests pressed together as she raised her head up to the sun, looked him in the eye, and whispered: 

“Don’t ever leave again.” 

“Is that a threat, babe?” He chuckled. “You look a little tired. Get some shut eye, alright? I’ve got you, so don’t worry.”

She was loathe to admit that he was right, but he had seen through her act - her eyes felt heavy under his watchful gaze, and soon enough, she lost hold of consciousness and fell into a warm, dreamless sleep.

It was an odd feeling. No visions of Claude, not even nightmares of him dropping her off his wyvern or of him leaving again. No visions of Sothis. Nothing. Nothing at all, only the vague feeling of an embrace, and the faint sounds of a wyvern’s cry. 

“He-e-ey!” 

And now a voice.

“Hey, sleepyhead!”

A persistent voice.

“Teach!”

Stars floated at the edge of her vision as she blinked rhythmically, mind foggy as the world came back into view. She eventually found herself staring up at Claude, a grin plastered across his face, his arms settled on her head, hands slowly drawing circles in her messy hair. 

“Sheesh! I don’t remember you being such a heavy sleeper, babe.” 

“Where… are we?” she mumbled, instinctively rubbing her eyes to clear the sleep out of them.

“I thought you might enjoy some peace and quiet,” he said slowly. “And what better place to relax than one of your favorites?” 

They were laying in a sea of flowers, the grass below high enough to graze her cheeks as she laid her head on his lap. Tiny trees dotted the horizon, far, far away, softly blurred by mist, while the world around them bathed itself in the early moonlight. Stars gleamed above their heads, tiptoeing their way across the sky as the pair laid there, quietly, gazes locked together. 

He blinked.

“Love…” Byleth muttered, a lazy hand crawling along his chest. “I’m still mad at you.”

“As expected, your Highness.” he responded cheekily, before pausing for a moment. “But, in all seriousness… I really am sorry.” 

She didn’t respond. At least, not with words. Her eyes said it all. It was less of an anger, really - tears threatened to spill over as she stared him over, her sadness overtaking any frustration she could muster. 

“For all these months…” he sighed, taking strands of her hair and braiding them while he spoke. “I’ve missed you so, so much. You know that, right?”

“I thought…” her voice was tiny, defeated, embarrassed. “I thought you changed your mind.”

“On you, Teach? I could never.” 

“I told you I don’t like that nickname anymore,” she sighed, a smile creeping onto her cheeks. “I’m not your teacher! I’m your wife.”

“Sorry Teach. It’s second nature now.” He had finished a braid by now, and proceeded to tie it off with a dandelion stem. It didn’t hold. “Plus, I like teasing you.” 

“You’re the worst," she laughed, her grin now stretching from ear to ear. 

Suddenly, he went quiet.

“What?” Byleth blinked, a smile still plastered across her face. “What is it?”

“Baby,” his voice was just above a whisper. “I am never leaving you or that gorgeous smile of yours ever, ever again. Ever.” 

“Promise?” 

“Or my name isn’t Claude von Riegan.”


End file.
